


Complementary/Complimentary

by skytramp



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Blow Jobs, Facials, Hand Jobs, M/M, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:19:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8007730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skytramp/pseuds/skytramp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Oishi unlocks the door while Eiji fidgets beside him. </p>
  <p>They’re half inside and Oishi is just about to ask him what’s got him so nervous when Eiji pushes Oishi against the wall.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	Complementary/Complimentary

**Author's Note:**

> Well, Sarah asked for Oishi praisekink when i asked for prompts and here's a thing

“You know, you don’t have to compliment me so much.” Oishi says, wiping the sweat from his forehead and pushing back a few strands of hair at the same time. “It’s embarrassing.” 

He’s walking behind Eiji, court and sunset at their back, as they head for the club room and hopefully showers. Eiji glances over his shoulder at the comment, swinging his racket too vigorously with the arm swing of his quick walk. “Why do you think I do it?” He asks. 

Oishi laughs, still a little uncomfortable but in the way he always is when Eiji teases him. It’s never strictly a bad thing, but he can’t just let himself smile when the slight shame burns red in his cheeks. He props his own racket against his shoulder and keeps walking, hardly able to keep up with Eiji’s hyper pace. 

The club room is dark and locked this late in the evening, but being a vice captain in high school gives Oishi the perks of a key that middle school never offered. Oishi unlocks the door while Eiji fidgets beside him. 

They’re half inside the door and Oishi is just about to ask him what’s got him so nervous when Eiji pushes Oishi against the wall, abrupt enough to be shocking, but not painful. “Wh-what?” He manages to stutter before Eiji kisses the side of his neck. Oishi’s brain freezes up and he’s unable to do anything aside from frantically try to catch his breath. 

Eiji pulls back and smiles, as if answering the half question Oishi had asked. “Can I tell you how good you are _now_?” He asks and before Oishi is able to protest Eiji’s mouth is back on his neck, seemingly undeterred by the salty-sweaty state of the skin there. He pulls at the collar of Oishi’s polo shirt to expose just the top of his shoulder and continues kissing every available space. 

“You--you don’t have to, Eiji, I’m--” He wants to protest, to say he’s not really _that_ good at whatever Eiji’s words imply but instead Oishi brings his hands to either side of Eiji’s neck and runs his fingers through his hair just below his ears. Eiji’s own hands are moving as well, first down the front of Oishi’s shirt to ruck it up at the sides, and then into the stretch waistband of his shorts. 

“You’re so good, you’re perfect.” Eiji is muttering now, repetitious and redundant against the side of Oishi’s neck just below his ear. He can’t help but squirm under the press of Eiji’s fingertips over his crotch and the sound and meaning of the words themselves. 

“Eiji--I’m--” Another incomplete thought and if he wasn’t already embarrassed by his physical reaction to Eiji’s voice he’d be embarrassed by how inarticulate he’s become. His fingers tighten in Eiji’s hair and squeeze when Eiji’s own hand slips into Oishi’s underwear to squeeze his cock. 

Oishi’s words turn into a little gasp, almost more of a hiccup that he stifles so as not to be caught moaning at first touch. Eiji laughs anyhow, and stops kissing him in order to sink to his knees. Oishi considers trying to protest again, to tell Eiji he doesn’t _have_ to, that nothing in Oishi’s tennis performance today had deserved a reward quite so drastic but instead he takes Eiji’s free hand and holds it against his own stomach while Eiji wiggles Oishi’s shorts down one handed. He can’t let go, in spite of how much more efficient it would be if Eiji had two hands free. Oishi worries he’ll float away if he lets go, or he’ll somehow get lost in the rush of arousal and emotion sweeping through his chest. 

Eiji doesn’t seem to mind the few extra seconds it takes until Oishi’s shorts and underwear are down around his socks. He eagerly continues where he had left off with his hand, pushing his calloused thumb against the tip and smearing what little moisture has already gathered there. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” Eiji says, and when Oishi looks down to see him he almost wants to laugh at the way he looks, innocent smile on his face and both arms lifted, one hand stroking Oishi’s cock and the other squeezed in Oishi’s hand. Instead of laughing his arousal seems to double and he can feel his own cock twitch in Eiji’s hand. 

“Yes…” Oishi manages, because _of course_ Eiji has called him beautiful, it’s the type of offhand comment Eiji will make in any situation, no matter the context. 

“But _your dick_ is beautiful,” Eiji continues, barely waiting for Oishi to answer his question, “I just want to swallow it whole. I want to see how pretty you look when I’m making you feel good.” 

Oishi groans at that and Eiji takes the not-so-subtle encouragement to move his hand faster and lean up on his knees until his lips are just at the end of Oishi’s cock. He looks up with just his eyes, keeping his head poised and Oishi can see the question in his expression. Oishi manages a little nod and to squeeze Eiji’s hand in encouragement before Eiji wraps his mouth around the head and sucks. 

He’s gentle, at first, moving his hand and mouth in close enough tandem that Oishi feels immediately on edge. His free hand reaches down, unsure of what he wants to grab between the options of Eiji’s hair or wrist and settles for the wrist. He maneuvers their hands into a grip of the type that would support all of Eiji’s weight: hand around wrist, and Eiji’s hand around his wrist. 

Without his hands free, Eiji doubles his efforts with his mouth, only pulling back for scant seconds of breath and whispered praises that send Oishi into nearly as many spasms as the movement of Eiji’s tongue against his skin. It’s both too long and not long enough when Oishi feels his orgasm on the edge of overcoming him. Eiji can tell as well, too familiar with the sounds and motions of Oishi’s body to miss the signs, and pulls back completely. His mouth is half open in needy panting and Oishi is torn between holding Eiji’s hands or letting go to finish himself off. 

“I want to see, I want to see how pretty you are when you finish, I want to taste it.” Eiji babbles and Oishi _wants_ to listen, and the frustration of being on the edge for so long crumples his will. He lets go of one of Eiji’s hands and reaches for himself. Eiji helps, keeping his face back and mouth open, but with his own hand wrapped alongside Oishi’s squeezing where Oishi’s own hand can’t until Oishi groans and comes, spurting warm and sticky over Eiji’s face. 

Eiji flinches and squints but still manages to keep his eyes mostly open throughout and smiles when Oishi slides down the wall behind him until he’s on the ground. Eiji licks his lips and tastes the salty mix of sweat and semen. “I don’t think,” Eiji begins, “that I saw everything. We’ll have to do it again.”


End file.
